Rebirth: Noir
by Arjen
Summary: Rebirth series, part 1. Returning home from a pleasant day Mireille and Kirika find something that will once again turn their lives around.
1. Prologue

**Title: Rebirth: Noir  
Author: Arjen  
Length: About 15.000 words.  
Rating: PG-13, but I confess I don't understand these ridiculous things. So if I'm wrong and it should be higher, tell me and I'll change it.  
Summary: Returning home from a pleasant day Mireille and Kirika find something that will once again turn their lives around.  
Pairings: Nothing explicit. It isn't important for the story and I've kept that part of their lives hidden so if you prefer Kirika and Mireille as lovers that is possible. If you like them better as good friends that won't be a problem either.  
Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to their respective owners, in the case of Mireille, Kirika and all things Noir this means ADV films. Everything I have created is thanks to those same owners, so I can't/won't really claim that either. If you like something enough to use it yourself, be my guest. Just drop me a line so I can read it.  
Spoilers: This takes place after the series so there will be spoilers. If something isn't spoiled in this story, it probably will be in the sequel.  
Feedback: Read it, enjoy it (or not) and if you want to you can tell what you liked and didn't like. I like constructive criticism, I can learn from that. Flames are silly and will likely be ridiculed in the next post.**

**Background: This takes place about 2/2.5 years after the series. Mireille and Kirika have continued earning their daily bread but have taken a live and let live approach when it comes to Soldats.**

**Prologue:**

"Miss Bouquet? Can I have a word with you?"

Heaving a sigh in frustration, Mireille looked at the opened door to their apartment. She really didn't want to talk to Mrs. Bedeau, but a glance at the woman showed her that the widow was determined to speak to her. "Of course, I'll be right there." She then turned to her partner who she quietly told. "Why don't you go inside, make us some tea. I won't be long."

With a slight smile on her face Kirika nodded her approval of this and entered the apartment. Mireille looked after her, with a frown. The girl knew just how much she hated these discussions with their neighbor and liked to tease Mireille about it. While she was glad Kirika had been developing something of a sense of humor, which the girl could definitely use, she didn't appreciate the fact that most of the time she was the subject of the girl's little jokes.

Sending a final fake glare in the direction of her partner, Mireille headed down the stairs in order to confront her neighbor. Upon reaching her, Mireille could smell the mix of oriental herbs coming from the woman's apartment. Apparently she had been making dinner when she heard the two of them enter but hadn't let this stop her from once again causing trouble. Today had been nearly perfect so far and now this woman had to be difficult. Again! Taking a deep breath she managed to control her temper, a feat her uncle had been quite insistent on having her practice until she was able to do so. After all, being overcome by emotions at the wrong time could cost you your life, not that even now she was always capable of doing so.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Bedeau. What can I do for you today?" She asked with what she considered a fairly good attempt at a pleasant smile. While Mrs. Bedeau had lived in the apartment below their own for several months now, she was still unaware of the woman's first name.

"I have a complaint." Now, why did I see that coming?

A complaint, it was always complaints with this woman. She wondered about the woman's hearing as she herself never really noticed anything loud happening in their apartment, but they still got an almost weekly complaint about noise. "Really? And what is it about this time?" Her temper was starting to show but she honestly believed the annoying woman could drive anyone into homicidal rage.

"While you and your friend were out today," she sniffed at the word friend, indicating she still thought it inappropriate for the two of them to life together, "the repairmen of your television came to exchange it. And they weren't exactly quiet while they did this. I wasn't trying to hear what they were doing of course, but the way they handled their stuff was enough to really scare my poor Bazoo. I want you to tell me where I can send my complaints."

Mireille however hadn't paid any real attention to anything the woman said after mentioning the repairmen. Since the two of them didn't own a TV, they must have come for something else. But it couldn't be a theft. Had they been robbed, Kirika would have told her by now. What could they have been after then?

"Are you listening to me, girl? I said I want to know who those repairmen worked for."

"So do I." She bit back at the aggravating woman.

This reply seemed to perplex the woman. "What do you mean by that, don't you know?"

"We don't have a television."

"But that's what they said they came for. No," the woman seemed shocked, "you mean to tell me they lied about that? You young people, don't have any respect do you? Tell your friends, that I do not like being lied to or I will report your behavior to the owner of the building."

The conversation had ceased to be important however and Mireille decided to go upstairs in order to find out what the men might have been after. Turning her back on the woman she had barely reached the stairs when from their apartment Kirika yelled a warning. "BOMB!"

Diving down to the floor she barely made it before her senses were overwhelmed by the barrage of sound, light and heat that emanated from their apartment. The heat that engulfed her was terrible and she screamed in agony. But even over the loud explosion she could hear the building shaking on its foundations and the sudden creaking of the stairway. She had already seen the unprepared Mrs. Bedeau being flung down the stairs by the shockwave and realized that if she wanted to live she needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

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Post-fic comments: The story is finished, except for some final touch-ups so the parts will come 2 days apart. The other chapters aren't as short as this one either, so don't worry you'll have to wait too long before it's finished. In case you actually like my writing, I've also written a Noir/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover posted here on fanfic.net called Black Sunrise. Sequels for both stories are in the make or even finished.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

Pain. The only thing she could notice upon regaining consciousness was this overwhelming pain. Finding herself lying on her chest, Mireille tried to sort out the various sources of the feeling but quickly found this difficult to do. There was an incredible heat all over her body that made her feel as if she was on fire but she had no idea where it came from. Despite that pain however she managed to feel other things as well. She was lying underneath something, something that felt heavy and working through the haze of pain she concluded that whatever it might be it was resting on her broken bones. Her lungs felt as if they were burning in the same fire that covered her skin and when she coughed she was dimly aware of the coppery taste of blood.

Opening her eyes felt like the hardest thing she had ever done, her breathing was becoming more difficult however and she needed to find out why. Whatever had happened to her wasn't important now, survival came first. When she finally managed to tear open her eyes, she couldn't see anything. For a moment she was overcome by panic, before more rational thoughts reasserted themselves. She wasn't blind, she was just somewhere dark.

She tried to listen if she could hear anything, but it was strangely quiet. For a moment she considered shouting, but the pain that tore through her chest when she coughed disabused her of that idea. Mireille tried to move her arms and discovered that while her right arm was trapped she was able to use her left. It hurt to do so but she used it to explore as much of her surroundings as possible, and could feel the texture of the stones and wood that surrounded her.

Dimly she once again became aware of her laborious breathing and realized that her air was running out. She needed to open up a hole so fresh air could come in, without it she would die and that wasn't something she was prepared to do just yet. Using her free arm she began to tug at the looser pieces of rubble surrounding her. It was difficult, she didn't have any leverage and her strength had been reduced to almost nothing. The difficulty she had with creating even the tiniest of holes made her panic again. That was unacceptable however and she had to consciously exert herself in order to calm down. Panicking would only use up what little air she had left even faster.

In the end she managed to create a tiny hole through which air could enter and she hastily gulped in the fresh air, until she realized it wasn't as fresh as she had hoped. The black smoke that had entered through the hole caused another series of painful coughs and she craned her head to see where it had come from. Peering through the tiny hole she noticed flames everywhere. This however gave her some uncomfortable questions to answer. Why couldn't she hear the flames? Was she deaf? Where was she and how had she come here? Where was Kirika? Why hadn't her partner come to help her yet?

A memory flashed through her mind then, she had heard Kirika yell out a warning. But what kind of warning? She needed to remember, but it was becoming ever more difficult to think. When her vision began to swim in front of her eyes, all she could do was to try and stay conscious. Her attempts proved futile however and her last thought before slipping back into unconsciousness was the hope that it wouldn't take her partner long to find her.

. . . .

Voices. The next time Mireille woke the predominant thing in her tiny world was still pain, but she also heard far-away tinny voices. Relief flooded her for a moment, she wasn't deaf and Kirika must have found her. Hands were touching her body and she allowed this until she dimly realized they were too large to belong to her petite partner. She tried to struggle a little and could hear someone shouting from a great distance. "She's alive! We've got a life one here!"

This was dangerous, it could be anyone that had found her. In her pain filled mind, the blond assassin could only respond the way she had been trained. She tried to get away from the danger represented by the owner of that voice but again her weak body betrayed her and she blacked out.

. . . .

Once more she woke up to the sound of tinny voices, but this time they sounded a little closer and there were hands and things all over her body. She tried to struggle but someone held her down, sending a fresh wave of agony through her body. Subsiding she tried using her other senses to determine where she was. Sounds were still difficult to determine, while she could make out the voices she couldn't concentrate on what was being said and there was also some kind of annoying ringing in her ears. Smell, all she could smell was fresh ashes, as if she was in some place that had been burned to the ground only hours ago.

Her body was still hurting, but she decided it would be best if she'd open her eyes and try to determine her location. If she wanted to escape from here, she needed to know where here was and what the environment looked like. Opening her eyes however, showed her a group of paramedics above her prone body. She also noticed the clear sky, indicating that she was outside somewhere. At least she was away from the dark place. The paramedics' behavior was strange however, she hadn't expected anyone to go to this much trouble unless they wanted to kidnap her, or they might even be real paramedics but that didn't make her feel any better. Ambulances meant that there was likely police involvement as well.

One of them seemed to notice her open eyes and concentrating hard she could understand what he was saying to his colleagues. "She's awake." He then turned to her and asked her name.

Strange, somehow she'd expected them to know who she was, but she whispered an answer anyway. "Mireille."

He then smiled at her and continued speaking. "Hello Mireille, you are one lucky girl. I'd like to do some small tests to check for any brain damage though. How many fingers am I holding up?" And he lifted his hand with two fingers extended.

Giving him the correct answer Mireille was then subjected to a series of simple tests that seemed to cheer the man up. Apparently nothing seemed to be damaged, although he told her there would be more extensive tests later in the hospital.

"Now, do you know where you are?"

She had to think about this for a moment, her last memories before waking up were of a pleasant day spent in Paris and then returning home. "Home, we just arrived."

For a moment Mireille believed the paramedic flinched at the word we, but she must have been mistaken. He then spoke to her again, driving that thought out of her mind by the need to concentrate on what he was saying. "Good, the police will probably want to speak to you later about what happened, but it might help you to try and remember what happened here."

What was the man talking about? It was obvious something had happened and she had no intention of talking to the police, but he sounded concerned about her welfare here. And where was Kirika? Mireille could hardly remember the last time she was wounded without the Japanese girl being around to help her. She tried to focus her memory as the paramedic had asked her to and thought back to the moment they had entered the building. She could remember the two of them going upstairs and opening the door. But then the annoying woman had wanted to bother her again. She had returned to the lower floor and had some kind of conversation with the woman, although she couldn't recall what it was about. Then she had gone back upstairs and heard Kirika's warning shout. "KIRIKA!"

Moving into a sitting position she tried to get up, Kirika had shouted about a bomb. She might be hurt as well. She needed to go to her, but the paramedics tried to stop her and she was still weak. "Where is Kirika?" She demanded of them.

"Don't worry about that now, you must take care of yourself first."

Hearing those platitudes made her even more anxious about her partner's fate. She had been in the apartment, where apparently the bomb had been and with her warning had saved Mireille's life. The fact that the paramedics didn't want to talk about her partner indicated that the girl might not have been so lucky. "Where is she? I demand to see her."

"Calm down Mireille, you need rest in order to heal."

Their evasiveness didn't calm her in the least and she craned her head to look at the building in which she had lived ever since she left her uncle's home. The top floor was gone, where once her apartment had been was now nothing but the skeletal remains of the building. But surely Kirika couldn't have been killed by a bomb. While she hated Altena with a vengeance for the crimes the woman had committed, she knew that the priestess had trained Kirika well. Surely that training must have covered how to survive being bombed.

Even knowing she was grasping at straws she once again tried to get up in order to look for her partner, hitting and kicking everyone who tried to stop her. A tiny prick in her arm however turned her focus back to those doing their best to save her life. With a curse she looked at the sympathetic faces of the paramedics before the anesthetic did its job and she lost consciousness again.

. . . .

This time when she regained consciousness she was alone. If she read the signs right however, she was in a hospital. Both the completely white room and the smell indicated this. If there was one smell she had learned to hate in her life, it was that smell that always seemed to be present in hospitals. The one that indicated that they had used about every disinfectant in existence in order to create a stench that would make even the healthiest sick, which would give them a reason to put you in there, even if you had only come to visit a friend.

Putting aside her issues with hospitals she started to check for a way out. This time her head was a lot clearer and she could remember the paramedic telling her that the police wanted to speak to her. She might be a victim this time, but she had absolutely no intention of voluntarily speaking to the police. They always came up with annoying questions and considering the scene she had made, their interest would have surely increased.

A horrible thought suddenly coursed through her head that made her look at her fingers. The lack of ink on them seemed to indicate they hadn't taken her prints, she wasn't certain whether they were allowed to do that if she wasn't accused of anything but it might be best to leave before they decided to do it anyway. She was in a private room, this had both positive and negative aspects. There wasn't anyone who could betray what she was doing, but on the other there wasn't anyone around to use as a distraction either.

There were two doors in the room; one of them was partially open though so she could see it only led to the bathroom. The other door probably opened to the hallway, but she'd need more information about the layout of the hospital before going that way. Her only other option would be the window, but it didn't look like it could be opened far enough to let her through. All in all she didn't consider this to be a good beginning in her bid for freedom.

Only now, after she had checked the more important things that concerned her immediate safety did she pay conscious attention to her own condition. Her right arm was in a cast, from what she remembered it had been used as a resting place by a rather large and heavy piece of ceiling so that wasn't really a surprise. Her ribcage was swathed in bandages as well, but once again that was to be expected. Besides that though she only appeared to have some superficial wounds although there were what appeared to be burns on the back of her arms.

She didn't feel any pain from them however so she presumed they looked worse then they really were. Like the medic had told her, she did indeed seem to have been very lucky. For a moment she remembered Mrs. Bedeau's flight, while she hadn't liked the woman there had been no need for her to die.

The subject of death however reminded her of Kirika. The Japanese girl had been at the center of the blast and judging by the way people had acted when she asked about her, she must have died. She frowned for a moment, why didn't she feel worse about that? When she had suspected it lying outside the burning building it had seemed to her as if her heart had been ripped out of her body, but now she felt a mere twinge of pain. It was also only then that she noticed the lack of pain in the rest of her body as well and realized she must have been dozed up with a painkiller. Probably morphine if she judged the effects correctly.

There was movement at the door and when it opened she noticed a young woman wearing a white coat standing in the doorway, obviously her doctor. Her attention however had been drawn towards the police officer seated at the entrance. That escape route was obviously out of the question for the moment as well. Maybe after she had healed enough to be able to take the officer out when she left would it be possible, but that would probably be too late.

"Good, you're awake." The doctor told her in a cheerful voice.

Not deigning to give an answer to such an obvious statement she settled for glaring at the woman.

"Okay," at least now some of that annoying false cheer had disappeared, "how are you feeling?"

Once again she had no intention of answering and she rather enjoyed seeing the doctor get flustered at her continuing glare.

"You don't want to talk, that's fine. It would be easier if you did, but I can try to do this without you saying anything. But I would like to know your name. From what Jacques told me you are called Mireille, but what is you surname?"

If there was one question she didn't want to answer it was that one. There was police outside her door, she was helpless and there was no doubt that the doctors must have noticed the scars on her body. Scars left by bullet wounds. Scars that very likely interested the police. Refusing to answer wouldn't help her in the long run, as her name was on the deed for the apartment, but it would buy her some time. Instead of simply ignoring the question however, she decided to ask one of her own. "How long?"

The doctor blinked at that, probably as confused at her continued refusal to answer as at the question. "You mean how long has it been?"

She simply nodded.

"The explosion took place yesterday, around 5 o'clock. It's now 3 in the afternoon. You were released from surgery only 2 hours ago."

Surgery, she must have been hurt worse then she thought, but that wasn't important right now. "Where is Kirika?"

"Who is Kirika?"

"My friend, she was in the apartment when…" She couldn't finish the thought, while the morphine in her body made sure she didn't feel as bad as before it still hurt to think about it. She desperately needed an answer though, the uncertainty was worse then whatever answer she could get and luckily the doctor seemed to understand this.

"I'm sorry, they have been looking for survivors throughout the night and you're the only one they have found so far." She looked sympathetically at Mireille. "And while they are still looking, it is unlikely they will find anyone else."

Mireille seemed to deflate; maybe she had been wrong about the uncertainty after all. When she hadn't had any confirmation about her partner's death she could still hold out some hope, but now even that small hope was gone. Tears started streaming down her face as she thought about the girl. In order to escape from the grief she immersed herself in memories of the young girl who had once so unexpectedly shown up in her life. Who she had sworn to kill, but when the time came to do so it had proven to be impossible for her to pull the trigger.

When she once again paid attention to the present she noticed the doctor had left. Using the sheet on her bed to wipe the wetness from her face she wondered for a moment how long she had been out of it. Not that it really mattered now anyway, it seemed as if Soldats had won after all. Half of Noir was dead, and unless she found a way to get out of here, the other half would be in some serious trouble with the police. Not that they could accuse her of anything, but modern forensics didn't need much to place someone at a crime scene.

A sound from outside the door suddenly caught her attention and, with her heart beating heavily, she looked at the entrance to her room. Unless she had been very mistaken, that had been the sound of a body falling of a chair. Mireille didn't believe in chance, someone had tried to kill her with a bomb and now her so-called protector was falling down. In her opinion that could only mean someone had come to finish the job. There was nothing in here that she could use as a weapon, strange how hospitals seemed to lack that kind of thing. Maybe there was something in the bathroom that might be useful, she just hoped her body was up to walking there.

It was too late however, as she made to move out of the bed the door opened and this time it revealed a man in a white coat. The silenced gun at his side however indicated that he wasn't a doctor. So now Noir would be dead entirely, she could just imagine those old men from the Manor celebrating that. But even that thought didn't manage to spike her anger, her crying about Kirika seemed to have expended all her emotions and she watched with a resigned look on her face as the assassin aimed his gun at her head and prepared to pull the trigger.

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Post-fic comments: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I know I said the rest of the chapters would be larger but unlike usually they aren't that long, at an average of about 3000 words. Sorry for that but I usually end a chapter when I think it's necessary not when I've written a certain amount of words. Anyway I hope you liked this chapter, despite what is probably an annoying cliffhanger. When I had written this I actually thought that maybe I should end the story here but then I wouldn't be able to post the sequels and I like them so you're lucky and I'll continue the story in two days.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Mireille couldn't tear her eyes away from the gun in front of her. Memories of the last time someone had pointed a gun at her head were flashing through her mind. Even while feeling she had lost her main reason for living, she really hadn't wanted her life to end like that, and that day luck had once again proven to be the second-best ally she could ever wish for. An ally who's usefulness could only beaten by Kirika.

Hearing the doorknob turn she picked up the gun and quickly pointed it at the door, replacing it on the bed when she recognized it was her physician who entered. "How are you today, Ms. Fleur?"

"I feel great actually, thank you." She smilingly answered when she heard him say the name he knew her by; for indeed she felt better then she had in the three months since the explosion.

The elderly man returned her smile. "That is wonderful to hear. I would still like to examine you for a moment though and this won't excuse you from your physical therapy session this afternoon." That last part he delivered in a teasing tone and the playful waving of his finger.

"Really? That's just too bad, I was hoping I could spent my time getting totally bored today." She teased back. Both of them knew that without the daily exercises Mireille would have lost her mind out of sheer boredom weeks ago.

As the doctor examined her, the teasing conversation continued. It had surprised Mireille how fast she had learned to like this man. She wasn't someone who cared about people in general and it usually took her a while before she was this at ease with someone. All of this was of course a natural reaction to her job, caring about people got them killed so it was best to not let anyone get that close to her. In this case however, the outgoing personality of the man had managed to get past even her usual armor.

The clinic she now resided in was a place she had discovered several years previously and wouldn't use unless really necessary. Located in the Alps, approximately at the border of France and Switzerland it was in the middle of one of the world's most beautiful sceneries, but this location also made it hard to reach. When she had needed a place to heal after escaping the hospital, she had decided that her current condition had qualified as really necessary and set out to get here.

The original owner of the place had believed the mountain air would be good for the health of his patients and had it built completely with all modern comforts of the time. Although this was over a century ago the clinic had moved along with the times and its high-wealth clientele made sure it had the necessary funding for upgrades. Upon her arrival, she had been exhausted and in an incredible amount of pain. Because of this she had immediately been taken to a room, full of equipment of which she couldn't even guess the use, and been examined. While the doctors in the Parisian hospital had done their best to heal her, the long drive to the clinic had reopened some wounds and aggravated others. Within an hour she had found herself back in surgery, where the doctors had attempted to heal the damage.

It was about 2 weeks after her arrival when she was asked about plastic surgery. Because of the burns that covered most of her back it was deemed more or less necessary and there had been another reason as well. While the type of clientele made certain that discretion was one of the most important qualifications for the clinic's personnel, they had pointed out the many scars that adorned her body. Most, if not all, of these had once been painful reminders of a mistake she had made or a lost battle, which often proved to be the same thing. They had never really bothered her, since she mostly saw them as reminders not to make the same mistakes again.

Now however, the medical community in Paris probably had pictures of them and might even identify her by comparing those to her body. If she planned to one day return to the city of light it would be best if the amount of evidence about her identity was as small and out of date as possible. That decision made, she had undergone another series of surgeries that had covered the existence of these wounds from her body.

The extra time this took didn't really matter to her anyway. It was only after she had awakened after her first surgery here that she had been informed about her worst injuries. She hadn't really noticed in the hospital or even during her trek through Paris after her escape from there, but it had been her legs that had been damaged the most. The lack of any casts and the fact that she couldn't feel any pain from them had fooled her about that.

In hindsight Mireille realized that she should have known they couldn't have come out that good and that because of the morphine she wouldn't have been able to sense any pain, but hindsight was twenty-twenty. When she had hobbled through Paris, she thought the morphine had been the cause of the strange way her legs were behaving and had just gritted her teeth and pushed on. Here however it had been explained to her that a large number of the muscles in her legs had been torn and her insistence on walking on them had only aggravated the condition.

So she had been locked up in this room for three months now, with the only time she spent outside it being the rehab sessions and a couple of excursions of the surrounding landscape. Unfortunately the latter had taken place in a wheelchair, something that she loathed, and had therefore been kept to a bare minimum.

During her musings the doctor had continued the checkup and he now seated himself in a chair next to her bed. "The muscles do indeed seem to be healing well. I believe that within a month or two, you should be able to leave here completely restored."

"That is wonderful!" She exclaimed, her bright mood getting even better.

"Indeed it is, I also believe that it might be good for you to go outside this afternoon."

That wasn't really what she had wanted to hear. "Oh come on, you know how I hate being so helpless, sitting in a wheelchair."

"Indeed I do." For a moment his eyes flickered to the gun still lying exposed on the bed. "However, I believe that if you do not overexert yourself and don't walk for more then a couple of minutes before you sit down again, there might not be any need for a wheelchair."

Mireille could hardly contain her excitement for being allowed to do something that months ago she wouldn't have even bothered to think about. "I can go and walk all by myself? Really?"

"Yes, I would suggest you use a cane though, I'm sure Nanette can provide one for you."

"When can I go outside? My physical therapy is scheduled for two today."

She noticed him try to smother a smile that was threatening on his face, but her mood was so good she didn't really mind. "I think it would be best to go after you've finished. I understand how the therapy will tire you, but that way we can both be certain you won't overdo it. I'll tell Nanette to make sure she gives you the cane when you she is done with you."

He was right about what the therapy would do to her. Before her first session she hadn't believed how hard it would be to do those exercises, but had Nanette not been after her not to give up she wasn't certain she could have finished them. In the end the leaden feeling in her arms had even prevented her from driving the wheelchair back to her room. Nonetheless she replied with complete confidence. "That won't be a problem." Nothing would be able to stop her from setting her first step outside of this building in three months.

"No, I don't think it will. After all, it should have been impossible for you to use your legs when they had been damaged the first time. Yet you walked through a large portion of Paris and thereby managed to aggravate your injuries." Pinning her with a serious look he continued. "I trust you will make certain nothing like that will happen today?"

She really thought it was unfair, it's not like she knew that her legs had been hurt that day, but everyone here still reminded her of how stupid that had been. Somewhere in her mind she had to agree with them of course, even though she didn't have a choice at the time and she would do it again even knowing what the result would be. Therefore she sent a glare back at the man in a silent answer.

He sighed at that. "I know you don't like it when we remind you of that but you must understand how lucky you are that you hadn't done even more damage to your legs. It might have cost you the ability to walk entirely. We have done our best to heal you, and despite our wishes we have even started to care a little for you." Once again his gentle teasing had managed to clear the air between them a little. "We have no wish to see you undo all this work by doing too much too soon. So remember when you go out, you can walk a little but don't forget to take frequent rests."

. . . .

The physical therapy was grueling. Sweat had started to run over her entire body and it caused what little clothing she wore to stick to her body, constricting her movements. Once again wiping her slick hands on her sweats, Mireille looked at her personal slave driver. "Did doctor Guillemin talk to you?"

"About what dear? Do another 20 of those by the way." The last indicating the exercise Mireille had just stopped doing.

Complying with the directions Mireille told her. "Don't be like that! You know what I'm talking about."

Nanette looked at her with an unrepentant grin on her face. "Now, what could you be talking about?" Pretending to ponder her own question for a moment she then answered it. "Of course, I remember. He told me that you would need a harder workout schedule because of your improvements. I have to agree with him there, it would be a shame if you weren't in peak condition by the time you left here."

Mireille turned her best assassin glare on the woman, but that didn't seem to do her any good. "That's not what I meant and you know it." Realizing what she had just been told however she asked. "The therapy is going to be harder?"

"Yes dear. You are doing rather well now on this level, so we'll have to make you work a little harder the rest of the time."

Doing pretty good? She was so tired at the end of these sessions that sometimes the only thing keeping her awake was the stench of her own sweat. Her incredulous look must have been interpreted correctly by the therapist because she answered the unspoken question. "You really are doing very well. I don't think I have ever seen anyone so determined to walk again, it's almost as if you are willing to do anything to make that happen. Before you came here you must have been in great shape, since even on your first session you did more then most after almost a month, despite how severe your wounds were."

There was no way she could see this as anything but praise, so she thanked Nanette for the kind words before once again going back to her original subject. "But tell me, you did speak to the doctor didn't you?"

"Yes dear, he told me how I should arrange a cane for you so that you could go outside for a while today."

"And did you?"

Like her doctor had done hours before, the therapist too had to control her laughter at the eagerness in her voice. And just like then Mireille didn't mind at all, as long as she got what she wanted. "Yes, I have and I'll give it to you once we are done here."

"Thank you, I can't wait to get out."

"I know but that will happen after we're done here. Now do you remember what we did last week?"

With a smile on her face, Mireille listened to the directions given by her therapist as the session continued.

. . . .

She couldn't get the coat closed up right. Her trembling fingers tried to finish the last button on the coat, but it wouldn't go in. Disgusted by her own behavior she tried to calm down. Placing her hands on the wall she leaned forward and tried to distract herself with memories. The drive from Paris to here had been long; she couldn't quite remember how long it had been but were she to guess she would have to say it took at least a day, maybe even two.

At first, the ride had been fairly easy even with the morphine influencing her reactions, there hadn't been that much traffic and she had driven quite a distance before fatigue started to bother her. When she had passed a drive-through she ordered coffee and the vile-tasting drink had kept her awake for a while. Fatigue wasn't to be her problem however. Not long after buying the coffee she had started to notice the first twinges of pain and she realized that it wouldn't be long before the morphine had completely lost its effect.

Stopping the car she had then searched through the first aid kit it contained and taken out all the painkillers it contained. She had then taken as many of them as she dared and hoped that it would be enough to last her until she arrived at the clinic. They hadn't of course, but when next the pain started to reappear she didn't dare to take more of them. The pain continued to steadily grow worse, but she could handle that. She shunted the pain to a part of her brain and just ignored it until it almost seemed like a buzz to her. This was kept up until without really noticing it, the painkillers had completely stopped working. The first time she then shifted her body slightly in order to sit more comfortable, she shrieked from the pain and almost crashed into the car she was passing.

There had been no choice however; she would have to continue the journey without taking any more painkillers. No longer able to ignore the pain she had driven on with only one goal in her mind, to arrive at the clinic as soon as possible. Not knowing how long it would be until the pain became so unbearable her body would shut down to protect itself, she started to disregard every speed limit. On the highways it hadn't been so bad, there the greatest danger had been the police and if necessary she would have dealt with them. In the mountains however, she had no choice but to lower her speed at least a little. The sharp and sudden turns that turned up everywhere required time she didn't really have, but after she had almost driven of the mountainside she had understood that sometimes safety came first after all.

She could still feel her heart beating wildly in her throat from that harrowing experience, but thinking about the drive to the clinic had eased her nerves a little. She was finally able to close the last button on the coat and would have stepped outside if her legs hadn't almost given up on her. Stupid of course, standing there for so long had tired them out. So she had to sit down for a moment before she could go outside, while she didn't like it there was no way around it. Unfortunately her nerves started to play up again. Both Doctor Guillemin and Nanette had promised not to say anything, but she was still anxious for the reaction she would receive.

It took five minutes before she couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing the cane she stood up and set out for the exit. Once outside she paused again, she had really missed the warm feeling of the sun shining down on her face. The fresh mountain air cleared her head and managed to calm her down. Looking around she could see how in the distance the horizon consisted of the snowcapped mountains that surrounded the valley, while all around her there was the influence of the retreating winter on the landscape. The scenery however was only a tiny, unimportant detail in her mind as she was trying to find one special person. The person without whom she would have died in the hospital.

When suddenly she heard a tiny gasp from behind her, she knew she had found who she was looking for and the soft-spoken words that followed the sound only confirmed this. "Mireille, you're walking."

Turning to her partner she could only spread her arms wide and smile. "Surprise?"

---------------------

Post-fic comments: Well, a little over 6.000 words before Kirika spoke her first words in this fic, that's not too bad is it? Like the previous chapter this one was an attempt at a slightly different writing style then I usually use and I'd like to hear if it worked. I realize it isn't exactly fair that none of you know how the cliffhanger ended but don't worry that's why there are more chapters after this one :-)

ParadigmShifter, Anagro and Gracious-Rose, I really appreciate the feedback you gave me (even if it was in the form of bad puns :-)


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

She saw Kirika stare at her for a moment before the girl closed the short distance that separated them and embraced her with her deceptively strong arms. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you, I wanted it to be a surprise. Doctor Guillemin only told me this morning and I wanted to see how you would react."

As Kirika smiled up at her Mireille knew in her heart that her partner was as happy about her improvement as she was, even if the girl wasn't capable of expressing the emotion in words. This inability had never really been an impediment however since there had been only few instances where she was unable to read the girl's emotions and those had taken place when she was had trouble dealing with her own emotions.

Standing there with Kirika in her arms reminded her of how those terrible hours after the bombing when she had believed her partner to be dead. In her mind she was once again sitting grief-stricken on her hospital bed while the assassin aimed his gun at her. Even now she wasn't entirely certain whether she wanted to die at that moment or not, this morning she had believed it wasn't the case but sometimes in an unguarded moment she wasn't entirely certain.

The assassin clearly hadn't been a professional though and had made the mistake to leave his back unprotected. This wouldn't have been much of a problem normally, but believing he had killed all of Mireille's protectors he hadn't even bothered to wait for the door to close before he aimed his weapon at her. She had been helpless, without anything nearby that she could use as a weapon her thoughts had once more strayed to Kirika who without a doubt would have found something she could use.

When she then saw her partner walk through the door, she believed for a moment that she was imagining it before she felt her eyes open wide in relief. The assassin, seeing this, started to turn around to face the danger that was coming up from behind him but was far too slow to be able to do anything. Before he had even turned halfway around he was already falling to the ground, his legs unable to support the lifeless body.

Even Mireille had hardly seen the movement with which her partner had buried the scalpel in the man's neck, but her attention had soon turned away from the corpse and shifted to the girl that had once again saved her life. "You're alive." The words had to be forced out of her mouth, so surprised had she been and she had mentally cursed her own awkwardness.

She only received a slight nod and that enigmatic smile as a confirmation. This was enough however to make her believe that it was indeed Kirika who stood there and not some kind of ghost. Then for the first time since the girl had entered she took in her partner's appearance. The Japanese girl looked like she had gone through hell, she was covered in scrapes and bruises, and from the parts of her skin that were visible it was clear that she was covered in burns as well.

Her partner's clothes hung in tatters around her slight body, while the girl herself seemed exhausted and barely able to stand on her feet. This last worried Mireille the most. She had seen how little sleep Kirika could live on without seeming tired and for her to appear this exhausted could only mean her wounds were far greater then she was able to see. Finally getting out of the bed she had moved to her partner and embraced her carefully, happy beyond belief at her own good fortune.

Bringing back her mind to the present she could feel her legs start to tremble again and knew she had to sit down quickly before she actually fell to the ground. Kirika seemed to notice this as well and pulled back before worriedly asking. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I just need to sit down now."

Supported by her partner she then walked over to one of the comfortable benches that had been placed everywhere and took a seat. "But tell me, how are you doing? Do any of your wounds trouble you?"

A shake of her head was all the answer she got, while Kirika still looked her over to make certain there was nothing wrong. This concern had been present ever since they had met up in the hospital. While she still didn't know how exactly the girl had managed to escape the explosion it had been clear that like her, Kirika had been unconscious for a while. By the time she had revived, Mireille had been transported to the hospital and the emergency personnel had been busy taking care of the dead. Not seeing any hope of how Mireille could have survived, the girl had then traveled through Paris for the entire night. While details about that night were even more closely guarded then how she had survived the bombing Mireille had gotten the impression that her own depression had been light compared to that of her partner.

The next day however, Kirika had stumbled on a newspaper stating there had been a survivor of the bombing. Hoping this to be Mireille, she had then proceeded to the hospital where she had taken it on herself to protect her room until she had awakened and they could leave.

Now however, she was apparently satisfied with the way Mireille looked, because she seated herself next to her. Taking care that while they were seated there was at all times a physical connection between them so she would immediately notice any change. Mireille didn't mind the protectiveness that her partner had shown ever since the bombing, she too wanted to be certain that nothing was wrong with the other.

"The doctor said I would probably be completely healed within two months."

"Good."

Smiling at the brunette's anxious tone of voice she then asked. "You're not bored, are you?"

The sullen look she received was answer enough. Never had she imagined that the introvert girl could become bored, but it seemed as if the past months had definitely taken their toll. Kirika's wounds had indeed proven to be more serious then those she carried herself but the torn muscles needed far longer to heal. Not that that was the only reason, the doctors had all been amazed at Kirika's fast recovery and she had heard some of the strangest theories floating around the clinic about the girl.

Kirika had been restored to total health within a month of their arrival here. From that moment on she had started using the gym to an extent that seemed almost inhuman and it was this behavior that had spun the rumors out of control. While in a normal setting her partner would be able to go for a long time with just her thoughts, it appeared that she didn't want to dwell on them now. After the first week using the gym wasn't enough anymore and she had started to take long runs in the afternoon. It had taken Mireille a week to figure out that the girl did more then run on those trips and she had no doubt that whatever skills Kirika might have lost, she was now back to her usual efficiency.

"I know, I wish that these damned legs would heal faster as well." She looked down at her traitorous legs with displeasure. "But at least I'll be able to come out here from now on, that way we can do some planning away from listening ears."

. . . .

When you are waiting for something, time always seems to move slower then it does at other times. Mireille knew this to be the case, but during the weeks after her first walk outside she always kept staring at the clock, hoping that it would soon be that time where she might once again go outside. Everyday her legs seemed to improve and three weeks after her first visit outside she was allowed to decide for herself how much time she wanted to spent there.

From that moment on Mireille accompanied her partner on her daily runs. While she had no chance to keep up with the other she did enjoy the possibility to feel the cold air caressing her face, while her legs were pumping away carrying her body through the clean smelling forest. It was during one of these runs that she once again held the cold metal of her trusted Walter P99. While her original gun had been destroyed with the rest of their equipment, she had long ago set up several caches of guns and money around Paris.

After they had slipped away from the hospital, they had first gone to one of these. The cache they had gone to was one of the newer ones, since it also contained a gun and passports for Kirika. The caches had all been designed to be as small as possible, so there hadn't been any clothes for either of them. Because of this they had to do with the ill-fitting clothes they had stolen in the hospital, until they had finally reached the car that had been placed into a long-term parking spot at the airport.

But now she was once again using her gun to fire at a circle that had been drawn on the wall of a mountain. She had to once again become as familiar with her chosen weapon as she had been with her previous one. The minute differences with the other weapon felt more pronounced due to the fact that she had been unable to use the weapon during the last months. By the time she could leave the clinic she needed to once again regard the gun as an extension of her body, something she could use with no more thought then her arms or legs.

That thought sobered her up a little and she noticed how she had been pulling the trigger of the empty gun while she had been thinking. The gun did indeed need to become a part of her body, but so far her body hadn't done as well as she had hoped. She had half expected that by now, six weeks after that first wonderful walk, they could have left the clinic. But while her legs seemed to have healed from the damage, she was in less then perfect shape. Three months that had been mostly spent in bed had taken their toll and a couple of weeks of light training had not yet managed to restore her to the level she wanted.

Ejecting the clip she noticed that it had been the last one, all her clips were now empty and therefore she decided to start cleaning the bullet casings out of the clearing. She couldn't remove all proof of her actions here, but she could at least take care of that while waiting for her partner to return. While doing so Mireille fondly thought back to the girl's first reaction about her recovered ability to walk, it had been one of the highlights of their stay here, not that there had been many of those.

After she had started to go with Kirika on her daily runs though, she had noticed the change in her partner's behavior. It was here, away from the clinic, that the girl had allowed that other self to come forward a little. When Mireille had first noticed this, she had been terrified at the return of this remorseless being and it had taken her a while to accept that it wasn't as bad as she had feared. Now three weeks after that revelation she still hadn't completely accepted this mix of personalities but knew it was mainly a concentration aid for Kirika, stopping her from being distracted by her emotions.

In one respect it really didn't matter how the girl thought at any given moment, in both incarnations it was obvious that Mireille's wellbeing was important to her. While she felt flattered by this, the fact that the same persona who at one time had wanted to kill her now felt it important to protect her was rather strange. The only thing to which she could attribute this change in what she thought of as Kirika's darker self was that according to her the two of them had passed all the trials and therefore were the True Noir. And since Noir was a partnership they each took care of the other.

Suddenly she felt as if being watched and for a moment she cursed herself for having spent all her bullets. This didn't last long however as she recognized that the heat of this gaze could only come from one person. Turning around she immediately spotted her partner, still with her eyes slitted in the way that indicated the darker self was currently in control. While she knew that if Kirika didn't want to be heard approaching, nobody would be able to, Mireille still wasn't happy with her own lack of attention. "Hi, nice run?"

As always the only answer she received to this question was a nod of the girl's head, but surprisingly after doing so she spoke up. "Have you found anything else yet?"

Almost every minute she wasn't trying to get back into shape, Mireille spend working on a laptop, trying to find out who it was that had been behind the assassination attempts. "Nothing new and I'm starting to think we won't find anything else from here either. The report had some information, but I think that's the only thing we'll find."

The only thing all those hours had earned her was the police file on the man who had tried to shoot her. But even that had been rather sparse, it had given them a name of the man, but since it hadn't led them anywhere she now believed it to be a fake. Besides the name there had only been one thing that could help them, an identifying mark of a shield with strange symbols tattooed on his right upper arm.

She had been trying to find out what the mark could mean, but she had no luck in this so far. The only thing they could do now was to go to Paris and ask her informants, she was confident that at least one of them would be able to help. And as she now looked into those emotionless orbs that constituted her partner's eyes, there was no doubt in her mind that nothing could save those who had dared to attack Noir in their own home.

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Post-fic comments: Thanks again to those who reviewed. I'm sorry this is such a short chapter but it is the last one before they return to Paris and I couldn't put anything more into it without ranging into useless paragraphs without either plot or character development. Believe me, I tried for a long time :-)

Anyway what I meant to say is that I know it isn't the greatest chapter, which is why it took me a couple of months and writing three other stories before I continued this story. Isn't it a good thing I don't post anything until I've finished the story? You would have been kept hanging for that long until I had finally been able to post this chapter.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Paris, finally she was back in the city that for most of the last decade she had called home. Standing in front of her arms dealer made her realize exactly how much she had missed the city and she vowed to find a way that would allow her to come back here without having to fear the police.

"Beautiful! You are back, I have missed you!" She had never been able to understand why Jacques would feel the need to do everything as extravagant as possible, that couldn't exactly help in a business that needed to stay hidden.

"Hello Jacques."

"Where is you pretty friend? The one who's beauty is only comparable to your own?" Oh yes, he really couldn't stop doing this, could he?

"She's doing something else. I need some things."

"And here I thought you allowed your beauty to lighten up my dark store just for a nice conversation." While he was a little too extravagant for her tastes, Jacques was always nice and full of compliments. That at least was one of his good points, not that she would allow something as silly as compliments to influence her of course.

"Alas no." Oh god, now she was doing it herself. "I need bullets, some spare guns and throwing knives. You know the details." She still detested the vulgar way Kirika sometimes killed her marks but after the girl had insisted that she'd learn to use a backup weapon she had grudgingly practiced with the knives. She had seen firsthand just how effective those sharp weapons could be and had therefore chosen to use them, despite the less then pleasant memories they called on.

"I figured something like that." While the man then started moving for the goods she had requested he kept talking. "I haven't seen you for, well, it must have been about half a year."

"I was elsewhere."

"Hah, that I figured out for myself. I didn't think someone would have taken you out or your pretty friend would have come by to get everything I own."

She only smiled slightly at that, recognizing the truth in the statement. That had no doubt been part of what Kirika had done during that night she still wouldn't talk about.

"But if you do not want to talk about it, then I will be quiet. So, you've been out of the city for the last six months. Do you want to hear what has been going on in that time?"

"Information is always welcome, you know that. But keep it to the last five, I was still here during the other month."

"You just didn't have need of me then, very well. Let me think for a moment, five months ago…" The way he smiled a little made her a little wary of what he was going to say. "Oh yes, at that time there were rumors that Noir had been killed."

"Really? I have some trouble believing that." But she could feel her heart thundering in her throat.

"So do I but nobody has heard of Noir since then."

"Maybe Noir decided to take a break."

"That could be true, on the other hand there was a rumor connecting the death of Noir to the bombing of an apartment building. There was only one survivor, a beautiful blonde that disappeared the day after, leaving only a corpse behind. There were no pictures of the woman but the newspapers gave a pretty extensive description, now that I think about it she looked a little like you. Interesting coincidence don't you think?" It was obvious what he suspected but there was no way that she was going to acknowledge anything.

"Very interesting but what else have you heard?"

Apparently recognizing he wouldn't get any information out of her, Jacques only nodded with a knowing smile and started telling her of the happenings in Paris during her absence.

. . . .

"So, this is it?" Together with her partner she looked at the mansion that was supposed to house those who had wanted to kill them. It had taken them a couple of days to track their targets here and now she had seen it, she wasn't sure about the validity of the information.

Kirika, probably realizing the question was rhetorical remained silent and continued scanning the grounds. Mireille however knew that her partner would remember everything she'd see and when they'd design the plan would bring the information up.

"Doesn't look like much, though." She frowned at that, it was strange that whoever was after them would have chosen to remain in a building that looked so old and hardly defendable. Had it not been for the fact that it had been bought a decade ago she might have figured this had only been a temporary base and by now was deserted again.

"There, someone is still here." Her partner pointed out, obviously having had the same thoughts. Thoughts that were now no longer important since the house was indeed still occupied.

"Good." Looking at the man, who she too had now spotted, she tried to find out where other guards might be. The area was heavily wooded and could house all sorts of dangers, from cameras to traps designed to kill them. Strangely enough, in a case like this it might be safer to go through the guards since they were at least obvious dangers.

No matter what dangers the surrounding area might contain however, it was the mansion that was their eventual target and that was where they should focus their attention. In some ways the building reminded her eerily of the Manor except that there were no surrounding ruins, or vineyard. But she couldn't shake the feeling that this place was used for some strange religious purpose as well. Maybe it was some strange kind of cult? She hadn't thought of that before and it might help in trying to track down that strange tattoo the assassin had worn.

Banishing those thoughts for later perusal however she once more focused on the three-story building that was their target. There had been no blueprints or maps of the place to be found anywhere and now that she saw it she couldn't understand why. Surely some kind of historian would have wanted to find out the secrets of this place? The new owners might not want anyone to look around but surely someone would have wanted to investigate this place before then?

Maybe there would be information in one of the university libraries since this stakeout had proven to be mostly useless, there was no way they could predict what they'd find inside.

. . . .

Despite her high hopes, their quest for information had proven fruitless and now once again they were looking at the grounds surrounding the mansion. This time however they were dressed completely in a dark green that approached black and carrying their guns. Turning her head to Kirika she could see the girl nodding that she was ready and they set out.

Carefully moving through the trees they spotted the first roving patrol. Cursing the fact that she couldn't be certain the groups didn't use radio to keep in touch with the mansion she nonetheless targeted one of the three guards. She knew that on the other side of the path her partner was doing the same thing and it wasn't long before she finally pulled the trigger. Her target went down and even before he had hit the ground she could see one of the others do the same. A second silenced shot from her gun took out the last one and with thundering heart she moved to the group.

No radios. They had been lucky this time. With Kirika's help she then hid the bodies away from the path and hoped their absence wouldn't be missed until it was too late. Then once again each took a side of the path and barely being able to see her partner Mireille continued on through the darkness.

She could smell the lovely smell she had always associated with woods, a smell she almost liked as much as that of the sea. But now the penetrating stench of a cigarette came through it and she looked around to locate the source. Another patrol? How many people did they have here?

When she finally located the man that was obviously taking a break for a little smoke she did so by the clearly visible point of light. Had he not been indulging himself she might have walked straight by without ever noticing he was there. The fact that he wasn't walking on the path surprised her and she raised her opinion of their opponents considerably. If they had backups for their guards they might not be quite as stupid as she had started to believe. Of course, it might just be paranoia instead of strategic planning but that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous.

Walking closer in an attempt to try and find the others in his group she didn't notice the dry twig until it was too late.

"Who's there?" The man reacted faster then he should have and while putting out his cigarette he switched on a flashlight.

Mireille was barely in time to duck away from the searching beam of light and waited until the man would let up his vigilance. Unfortunately it appeared as if smoking was the only fatal flaw he had since he continued looking for the source of the sound. Silently cursing she started to circle around the man in an attempt to take him from behind.

Halfway through however she found one of the others that made up his patrol group. Or rather, he found her. Standing completely still while the cold blade was millimeters away from slitting her throat she allowed the man to take her gun.

"I've got her. Look around if you can find anyone else."

She still hadn't seen the man who spoke but when he started leading her towards the other, at swordpoint nonetheless, she berated herself. She should have paid better attention to her surroundings; after all she had known there were probably others besides the smoker. But no, she had to go barging in and allow herself to be defeated by someone using an outdated weapon.

She was one of the best in her chosen profession, maybe even the second best that was currently alive. She had no illusions that she might be better then her partner, despite how it might have seemed at the Manor the girl was better then she was. Thinking of her partner however reminded her of the knives that she was still carrying. Obviously these people thought, just like she once had, that anyone carrying a gun was unlikely to have other weapons as well.

Using the ancient 'pretending to stumble trick' she had a moment where the sword wasn't in immediate danger of killing her and used the opportunity to plant an elbow in the man's gut. That wasn't as effective as it should be as he seemed to be wearing some kind of metal armor, probably chainmail. Mireille didn't let the pain stop her however and immediately dove to the left, away from the sword, and took out one of her throwing knives. She might not be in the same league as Chloe when it came to this weapon but she was more then capable of hitting a target from only a couple of meters away.

As the knife embedded itself in the man's throat she sent a silent thanks to her partner for her insistence on carrying them, although she would have probably been able to get out of this situation anyway.

"Jean? Are you alright?" The other obviously wasn't as good at stealth as his friend had been and she quickly retrieved her gun before he could arrive at the body.

Lying in wait she saw how he arrived and this time she didn't wait any longer then necessary before ending his life. Good, now she had at least taken both of them out and could continue on her mission.

"Michael? Have you found him yet?" Another one? How could she have ever believed there might not be anyone here? The woods seemed to be crawling with these annoying people. Silently she walked to the place she had heard the voice came from but when she had arrived Mireille discovered that this was probably the smart one of the group as he had taken off. That wasn't good and she immediately started to run after him through the woods in an attempt to kill him before he could reach his friends.

. . . .

Running as fast as she could she once more aimed at the dark shape in front of her. Unfortunately like all the other times she only hit a tree, for some reason she wasn't as good a shot running through the trees in the dark as she usually was. At least she seemed to be gaining on him and she put on another burst of speed before trying again. This time she at least hit the tree he was running past and she believed that she had seen him duck from the splinters that had rained all over him.

A clearing in the wood then momentarily allowed the moon to light her target up and she stopped in order to aim carefully. The man looked behind him when she did so, allowing her to see the frightened expression on his face. He was far too lucky however as he dove to the ground at the exact moment she squeezed the trigger, once more saving his life. Anger at herself cost her precious moments and by the time she tried to adjust her aim he was out of the clearing, leaving her to run after him once more.

Moving at her top speed she tried to regain the lost distance between them but for some reason her target seemed to be running as if Death himself was at his heels. That wasn't surprising of course, even if Death in this case was a she, but it didn't help her attempt to end his miserable life. She was finally gaining on him when his upper body suddenly seemed to jerk backwards and he fell down on the ground. Even knowing what she was most likely to see she moved carefully until she could actually see her partner's expressionless face while she was checking the body.

Panting she walked to Kirika, glad that at least this man wasn't going to announce their presence before that was inevitable. But how had the girl managed to get here before them and then not even have the decency to be even slightly out of breath? The difference between the two of them in terms of condition wasn't that big was it? No, she probably just wasn't back into shape as much as she should be.

"A hundred meters." Her partner said, the soft-spoken words sounding almost loud in the sudden silence of the woods.

A hundred meters left to the mansion, well at least they had made good time in crossing the area even if it wasn't the way she had planned to do it. Ejecting the clip she looked at it in surprise. Apparently she had fired more bullets then she had believed since the only bullet left was the one in the chamber. Putting in a fresh one she could hear Kirika do the same while they set out to cross the remaining distance between them and their target.

. . . .

From close by the building wasn't as ruinous as it had appeared from the road as she could see that in some places the walls had been repaired. Apparently the work was still going on since she could see that the tools which had been used hadn't been cleared away. Shaking her head at such misplaced trust in humanity she ignored them and walked on.

It quickly became apparent that her idea that this might be a religious cult was indeed the right one. She could almost taste the religious zeal that seemed to be pervasive in every aspect of the building. The only part, that she could see from the outside, that had been completely restored had been the chapel.

The need for religion was one thing she had never really understood, unlike the Cosa Nostra her family had not been fervent believers and the fact that she made her life as a hitwoman didn't exactly encourage thinking about an afterlife. Her partner had never shown any signs off devotion either, despite the fact that everyone at the Manor had seemed fervent believers. Although she didn't really know what it was they had believed in since there weren't that many religions that went for the assassin theme.

Religion aside however, she still had a job to do here and couldn't afford these distractions. Quietly she went on creeping alongside the wall as the two of them tried to get to the entrance unseen.

"Drop it, or your friend here dies." Looking behind her Mireille could see how a sheepish looking Kirika was held hostage by another sword bearing guard.

With a sigh she allowed her gun to fall to the ground while wondering how her partner always managed to only get caught in places where she could practically choose a weapon.

"That's it girlie, now walk backwards towards the door where we will then join the others." Following directions she walked all the while trying not to look at Kirika who took a screwdriver from the pile of tools as she passed it. When the girl finally made her move it was almost too fast to see, her left hand reached up to stop the arm holding the sword from moving while the other was used to bury the makeshift weapon in her assailant's neck.

"About time." Was all she said, for once deciding not to comment on the messy way her partner had killed.

. . . .

When they then finally entered the mansion itself she was surprised at how good it looked, apparently the restoration work had started on the inside instead of the more logical outside. Tapestry of great battles covered the walls and combined with the archaic feel of the building it reminded her of how she figured castles in the Dark Ages must have looked.

"Intruders!" Turning around Mireille shot the man who had shouted the alarm. How could they have missed him? But it was already too late, cultists, or whatever they are, had started moving into the hallway and she quickly added her firepower to that of her partner.

"We can't stay here." She knew saying so wasn't necessary but did so anyway and together they continued firing letting the smell of burning cordite fill the air until, far too soon, she could hear Kirika's gun click empty. Their adversaries had noticed this as well and made use of the lower rate of fire to close in with them. Sheer numbers overwhelmed her and, like Kirika, she was forced to go hand to hand as well.

Now the advantage lay with the cultists, besides wearing armor that protected them from a whole range of useful moves they also had the numerical advantage. Ducking under a sword that had been intended to take her head off she grabbed one of her remaining throwing knives and used it with unerring precision. Unfortunately the little weapons weren't much use against swords or armor and she needed the rare target of an unprotected head. Which was becoming exceedingly rare as more and more of her opponents started wearing helmets.

Shooting a glance in her partner's direction she noticed the girl using an appropriated sword to fight off five of the cultists. She was good enough that they couldn't go one on one with her but because the hallway wasn't that wide they had some trouble with their teamwork as well. Dodging her own opponents she wondered if there was any weapon the girl wasn't a master in. She herself had always been more then happy with her gun but right now it would have been nice had she been able to use a sword even half as well as her partner.

The sound of a shattering sword was suddenly heard and for a moment the fighting stopped. In the ensuing silence she could dimly hear metal falling on the ground and looking in Kirika's direction she could see a dumbfounded cultist looking at what little remained of his sword. The girl he was facing however hadn't stopped moving and cut his throat before rolling over the floor and picking up the shard of sword lying there. This she then threw at one of her other surprised opponents, lowering that number to three.

That had all happened so fast that it seemed as if barely any time had passed and Mireille used the opportunity to grab her gun and shoot two of her own opponents. That left only two and she was pretty certain she should be able to take them. How to actually do that however was something she still needed to figure out.

Suddenly one of her opponents reversed his action and instead of taking a swing tried to stab her. Not having enough time to get out of the way she tried the same thing she had once seen her partner do and used her gun to block the sword.

As she did so however she could feel her arm almost buckle under the sudden pressure, while a shockwave traveled up her arm. Kirika had never mentioned it hurt this much! Although she had managed to avert the immediate danger the man's sword kept her pinned down, leaving her open for an attack by the other. Regretfully she let go of the gun and jumped backwards, hoping that this might save her life.

Luckily it worked as her gun was still pinned to the sword, preventing the man from trying to stab her again, although she wasn't as lucky in averting the stroke that had been meant to take of her head. While it missed any vital areas she still received a long and painful gash on her left arm. Now, without even her gun she was starting to get into real trouble.

Checking her throwing knives revealed she had only one left, although she couldn't really say where all the others had gone. Throwing it might kill one of her opponents, although it would be a tricky throw and she wasn't certain she could manage that right now. She was relieved however to notice that her opponents had merely removed the gun instead of deciding to actually use it.

As they noticed the tiny knife in her hand however a grin appeared on their faces but remained silent as they slowly approached. A quick look behind them showed her that the whirlwind that was Kirika still had two opponents to deal with as well, so no help would be coming from that direction. Not saying anything herself she tried to think of a way to use her solely remaining weapon while she was slowly backing up. Both of her opponents seemed accomplished swordfighters and she didn't doubt that were she to try and dive between them she would be dead before getting to her feet.

How could she deal with this then? A desperate plan formed in her head but while it made her even more vulnerable to those two in front of her it might just work. She couldn't come up with a better plan either so she took careful aim before throwing her last weapon.

Laughter came from the two men facing her as the knife passed them without touching but further in the hallway one of Kirika's opponents grabbed at his throat as his lifeblood started to spurt out. It hadn't been a clean kill but it would do. Her partner, now with only one opponent left dealt with him in a few short but powerful moves before finishing the one Mireille had wounded.

"Kirika!" The desperate cry still almost came too late as her retreat was blocked by the door she was now standing against. Looking in the eyes of the two men she could see there would be no mercy for her, once they were in reach she would die. Two nearly silent plops from her own gun however caused incredulous looks to appear on their faces before they crashed down to the ground in a clatter of metallic noise.

Looking behind the corpses she could see her slightly bruised and battered partner still aiming in her direction before slowly putting the gun away and offering a slight smile. A smile that changed into an expression of pain as a crossbow bolt suddenly appeared in her right shoulder. A horrified expression on her own face Mireille looked further in the hallway and noticed, mostly hidden in the shadows, a man trying to reload his crossbow.

"Foul servants of the Beast! You will suffer for the death of the faithful!"

"No!" With that shout of defiance she sprinted toward her partner and diving to the ground, she grabbed the gun that had dropped. Continuing in a roll and ignoring the pain this caused in her left arm, she ended up in a half-crouch with the gun aimed right between where she suspected the man's eyes to be. By now he was once again bringing his own weapon up so she didn't hesitate and pulled the trigger.

Noticing with more than a little satisfaction how the man keeled over she decided to check the different rooms that could be reached from the hallway. There didn't seem to be any other immediate dangers however so she quickly moved to her partner. The girl was gritting her teeth in pain but was obviously dealing well with it.

"How bad is it?"

"I'll be fine." That didn't help in finding out the extent of the damage but Kirika was smart enough not to dismiss something like this too easily. If she said she was fine it meant that she was capable of continuing the mission and wouldn't need medical attention until after that.

"Well, whoever that Beast of his was I don't think he'll need to worry about it anymore." Mireille tried to joke, although she did wonder what the man could have been talking about.

Shaking her head in order to get herself to focus on the here and now she looked at all the corpses spread over the floor and realized they might have killed everyone currently in the mansion. The man with the crossbow, who she discovered to be dressed differently, had probably been the leader. This left them with nobody to interrogate meaning they would have to go and look for information.

She hated looking around a place she had just killed this many men. There was always a part of her that shouted she should get away before anyone would show up that might identify her later. On the other hand she was pretty certain nobody else would be coming here but that didn't mean they should dally either. While she thought everyone was dead that didn't mean it was true. Splitting up might therefore not be the best idea with both of them wounded so after making sure they were once again armed they started looking for clues.

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Post-fic comments: Okay, finally a chapter of a decent size :-) Unfortunately after this there is only the epilogue left but then comes the sequel. About the sequel, I've got bad news and news that might be good or bad depending on how you look at it. First the bad, I'm not nearly as far along as I wish I was with writing it. I'll probably have about 6000 orso words written before I stop today but most of that will be only the first chapter. Where a scene I had originally thought to be about a thousand words orso decided it should be over three times that. Then the other news, it will be a crossover.

Even worse, it will be a crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It is basically a bridge where I will end this storyline and start one for another story (which I finished several months ago). But that other story is a Buffy story, well not Buffy actually since she has only a couple of lines, so it will be a crossover. Now before you all start crying that I shouldn't do that, the plot is far more Noir than it is Buffy, so there won't be any non-human badguys or be about mystical artifacts. Well, unless you count Dawn ofcourse since she is basically a mystical artifact made human.

So now that I've managed to lose most readers for the sequel which will be posted in the misc/buffy crossovers part of the site I want to thank everyone that reviewed and actually comment on the reviews posted since I last thanked everyone by name.

**Anagro: **Thanks for the comments and I'm kinda sorry that it wasn't as clear as I had hoped it to be, well it was meant to be a little unclear but from your and other comments it didn't work as well as I'd hoped.

**The Oracle: **Thanks for reviewing

**ParadigmShifter: **It's always nice to hear praise, thanks. And with the posting thing, yeah it is difficult and it can be rather annoying when you still can't post a story six months after you started writing it. Especially when you do then suddenly get strange ideas, like what would happen if Dawn dressed as Kirika during Halloween '97? That particular one bothered me so much I actually had to write it first and the sequels are still bothering me.

**Section-Eight:** Thanks for reviewing and would you believe me if I said I was sorry about blowing up the apartment? Me neither, but I thought I'd try anyway. The positive comments were welcome of course but I'm even more happy that you told me what you didn't like. I personally don't like writing flashbacks but I wanted to try if I could get them to work anyway, obviously I couldn't get them to work good enough. Oh well, next time I'll do it differently. The secret sanctorium as you called it was something else I wasn't really happy with but I needed someplace for them to recuperate so I grabbed one of the oldest ideas around. It wasn't all that important where they went anyway and if I had found a more decent way to do it I would have used it, just like I would have preferred something different in the prologue. After all, the annoying old lady is such an overused concept and I rather like doing things nobody else has thought of.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

Mireille wasn't happy and knew she wasn't the only one. Even Kirika's expressionless face seemed to exude disappointment at their lack of progress. Yes, they had killed those who had been trying to kill them but she also knew that wasn't all there was to it. There had been no clue whatsoever why the group had been after them, it was almost as if they had undertaken that task as a diversion from their usual tasks, whatever they might have been.

The people they had fought had been strange as well, she had never seen such an amount of swordfighters trying to kill her. It wasn't the first time someone had used an archaic weapon like that against her, even if the scars had been removed from her body that wasn't an event she was likely to forget. But nevertheless, the amount of swords and therefore lack of real weapons was not normal in this day and age. Especially for people trying to kill the world's best team of assassins. So they must have had another purpose, but what that was and why they had tried to kill the two of them was something they had been unable to discover.

The only room inside the mansion they had found that might have contained that information had been burning when they arrived at it. There had been some papers still untouched but the smoke and heat of the fire had driven them back, unable to reach those all important documents. So with the taste of ashes clinging in their mouths they had been forced to watch how their last hope of information had been destroyed right before their eyes. And there was something else about it that bothered her, how could they have ignited those papers? From what they had seen there hadn't been anyone close enough to the room to set it ablaze but the fire had still been there.

So now they were back where they had been months ago, having only accomplished to kill a large number of people without even getting paid for it.

Sighing she turned to the girl walking next to her. "We'll find out who was behind it. This is just a temporary setback."

Kirika obviously knew this as well so she only nodded in confirmation. But they also both knew that they had already used all of their existing resources to find whatever they could about the cult. What they now needed was an entirely new source of information. But where could they find one that was both trustworthy and capable of getting them the information they needed? She asked her partner this question and it was silent for a long time while the other thought this over.

"We could try sources that aren't sources."

Okay, that didn't make a lot of sense. "How do you mean?"

The girl however had stopped in front of an antique shop. "Maybe these people know about it?"

"A shop? What could they possibly know?" Although, now that she seriously considered it, there might be some truth in her partner's words. The cult clearly wasn't new and it was more than likely there was some information about them, so if that information was written down in some old book this kind of place might actually have some information. Accepting the possibility this might have some didn't exactly come naturally but figuring there was nothing to lose she followed her partner inside.

. . . .

"I'm sorry, but I can't recall ever having seen that emblem. Maybe someone else might be of more use to you here." Perfect, another one that had no idea. That made twelve so far, if they still hadn't found anything by the twentieth shop she was going to tell Kirika they needed to try something else.

"Let's try this one." Her partner's words tore her away from those thoughts and she looked at a strange looking store. She had lived most of her life in this city and had thought she had at least seen most of the shops but she couldn't remember an antique store with an English name. 'Ye Olde Shoppe: Selling the finest antiques since 1885 AD' As she read the sign however she realized that she must have just missed it, unless of course shops that were over a hundred years old could turn up overnight. Laughing a little at that ridiculous idea she walked inside, where she immediately noticed the musty smell that seemed to be the only thing all these shops had in common.

Wrinkling her nose at the annoying scent she decided that once they had finished here she was going to take a walk in a park. That way she would at least temporarily be rid of the stench. Looking around she noticed a rather large collection of books, that was something the others hadn't had and their presence gave her at least some hope.

"Hi, I'm Alice, welcome to my wonderland. " In consternation she looked at the woman that had appeared before them. Wonderland? Well, at least it wasn't another mad tea party.

"Hello, we are looking for some information."

"Only information? Are you sure you don't want some other things as well?" Alice turned to point at a pair of swords hanging from the wall. "The two of you look like you might appreciate those."

"Why?" Kirika spoke up before Mireille could indicate they didn't want to know.

"In my opinion the two of you are people who'd appreciate a good weapon. And those two are among the best swords ever created, especially considering the history."

Now even Mireille was slightly interested, not that she wanted to have the swords but she would like to hear what was so special about the strangely familiar looking swords, and therefore decided to ask about the history.

"It is said that they were used by a pair of assassins who lived in the sixteenth century, if the rumors about them were true they were the best. The name they used to identify themselves is still in use today."

A pair of assassins whose name was still in use? Kirika had obviously drawn the same conclusion she had and spoke up. "Noir."

"Yes, and like the two of you they were True Noir. Not merely people who used the name but two women who had actually undergone the necessary trials."

Barely remembering having drawn it, Mireille was pointing her gun at the head of the woman. "How do you know about us?"

Strangely enough the other seemed to ignore the gun that was pointed at her. "It is my job to know things. But that is not the question you should ask."

"Really? Because I think it's rather important, everyone who has known that name tried to kill us and I'd like to know if that means you will try to do so as well."

"Don't worry, I am not here to do you harm, quite the contrary actually. Like I said, there is another question you need to ask, how can I help you?"

"Is that so?" She had no intention to move the gun and it remained pointed straight between the other's eyes. "How can you help us then?"

"You are looking for something, yet all you have is an emblem you have found tattooed on people."

"You are not telling me anything I don't know, although I still wonder where you got that information."

A gentle smile that was closer to mocking then she liked appeared on Alice's face. "Sometimes it is necessary for you to trust people, or you risk losing your only possible source of information."

When Kirika gently pushed Mireille's arm down, thereby stopping her from pointing the gun at Alice, she finally gave in. "Alright then, talk."

"The group you dealt with last night had tried to kill you on the request of a mister Billings."

"If that is true, you are indeed useful. Where can we find this Billings?"

"It is true and I will show you proof in a moment. But to answer your other question, he can be found in London. There is one other detail you should know about him however, he is a member of Soldats."

Soldats. They had tried to mess up her life again and this time not only her own, Kirika who had already suffered far too much because of them had also been affected. The thought that once again they had to face this organization angered her and she swore that this time they would pay the ultimate price for trying to kill Noir.

End

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Post-fic comments: First of all, Alice is not some kind of super know it all character I used merely to get the two of them to London. She is a character whose background I know better than Kirika's, after all I actually know who her parents are :-) So there is a good reason she has all this information which will not be revealed until the third story in this series however and like I've said before that isn't a Noir story. In case you don't have any intention of reading it then, well that's your loss, after all if you're reading this that must mean you like my writing.

Then I apologize for posting this so late, when I originally wanted to post the site was having it's problems and so I couldn't. The fact that nobody reviewed the previous chapter is something I've also decided to blame the site's problems for :-)

The sequel is being worked on and I've made some progress, worked through some problems and have more or less a complete outline. There will only be four chapters in the story but it's likely to be longer than this one, as I've explained before this story was basically the first one I started writing on and at the time I thought chapters of somewhere between 2 and 3000 words were decent. I no longer think that however, by now I don't really like writing chapters less then 4500 words and more often approaching twice that. The total length of the story is still unknown but I can tell you the title. Rebirth: Family, seeing a theme here? Then let me tell you the name of the third story: Rebirth. No, there won't be a second part to that title. In both this one and the next there is mainly one theme that is "Reborn" but the third has quite a number of plotlines and I didn't want to point to one of them to the exclusion of the others.

Anyway, enough rambling. Thanks to all for reviewing and I hope you'll be back for the next story.

Arjen


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